


Focal Point

by Lydia (lydiabell)



Category: Castle
Genre: Kink Meme, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, breast bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:23:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydiabell/pseuds/Lydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since she was shot, she's felt like the scar on her chest was the focal point of her entire body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Focal Point

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Beckett/Castle kinkmeme on LJ, for the prompt "breast bondage, scar"

Kate's off for the night. Her phone is shut off. (God, she hopes Castle doesn't try to call her and then freak out and come over. Then again, part of her, the part that felt like a weight between her legs when she thought that, kind of hopes he does.) The door is locked. No interruptions. Just time for herself.  
  
She runs the cotton rope behind her back and then crosses it in front, between her breasts, right over the scar. She makes sure that the skin there won't be irritated, then passes the ends behind her to wrap around her body again.  
  
Since she was shot, she's felt like the scar on her chest was the focal point of her entire body. She's always aware of it, has caught herself wondering how it is that everyone can't see it, a beacon screaming _I could be dead. I should be dead. I don't know how I'm not. I don't understand how not to be_.  
  
She wraps the rope around her right breast, again and again, pulling it tighter, and the feeling goes right to her groin. She ties off that end. It's kind of sloppy, but aesthetics aren't really the point right now. She turns to the other breast, relishing the throb in the bound one. The rope is just a little bit rough, which makes it all the better.  
  
She's wondered, if she had sex with someone, if his attention to the rest of her could finally make her stop thinking about the hole in her chest. But she hasn't had sex since she was shot, and she has no idea when that'll ever change. So instead she has this.  
  
She finishes tying her left breast and tucks the ends of the rope in. She swallows hard as she takes in how red her breasts are. They're hot to the touch, too, and she closes her eyes and runs her hands over them, lightly, so lightly that she wouldn't be able to feel it except that her swollen breasts and stretched skin are so sensitive that she feels everything. She grazes her fingernails over her nipples, and her whole body flushes with a prickly heat. Her cunt is throbbing, but she concentrates on this for now, slowly scraping again with her fingernails until her heart pounds and her teeth chatter.  
  
She moves one hand down to press between her still-clothed legs, closes her eyes and slumps forward, sagging against the wall. It wouldn't take much at all. She's so ready she can smell the scent of her arousal. She considers giving in and taking the edge off; she knows she could come again later, maybe a few times. But she wants to wait. Wants to drag this out as much as possible.  
  
Her hands trembling slightly, she pulls her blouse back on. The fabric is soft, and cool against her heated skin. With every move she makes, she feels the slide of the fabric and the pressure of the ropes, her sensitized breasts relentlessly demanding her attention. She takes a deep, shaky breath and goes to the kitchen to pour herself a drink. She has all night, and she's going to make it a long one.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that's where it ends. :) I got some requests to continue, but nothing really gelled, and anyway, I kind of like the idea of leaving the reader hanging like Kate's leaving herself hanging.


End file.
